


Reunion

by bluemooning



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Fluff, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Smut, Spitroasting, Threesome, obviously, thats about it, wait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6172927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemooning/pseuds/bluemooning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind the smell of the detergent, there is something softer that’s burrowed deep within these fibers. It’s something musky with a hint of sweat, and it takes him back to a Tokyo night, in that twilight between yesterday and tomorrow, when his cries were muffled in the covers because Akaashi had reminded him that the walls were thinner than one would think. Even Bokuto had been more subdued, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that had sent Hinata reeling in his bones, begging for Keiji and Koutarou, over and over and over again, until none of them cared what the neighbors thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from realbokuto @ tumblr, so go there and shower her with affection <3  
> This is also the filthiest thing I have ever written (so far) so enjoy!

 

“Bokuto-san, please answer the door,”

Leaning back in his chair, Bokuto regards Akaashi with a ever-curling eyebrow - one day, those things will have a life of their own - and the corners of his mouth turn upwards.

“Why?”

“I’m busy right now,” Akaashi’s head is bent down slightly; his face is covered by wavy black hair. “I’m making a sign to put above our doorbell. It’ll say Out of Order,”

Bokuto frowns, but gets up. The front door of their apartment is an easy bound away. “But our doorbell works fine,”

“Exactly,” says Akaashi, and only when Bokuto twists the knob and yanks the door open in one easy motion, does the incessant ringing stop.

“BOKUTO-SAN!”

“SHOUYOU!”

With a whoop, the two begin their secret handshake, and Akaashi pretends not to care. But he can’t hide his smile from them when they join him on the couch, overflowing with energy and bubbling over in excitement.

“Your apartment is so cool!” Hinata madly scans the room with beaming eyes.

“I know right?” says Bokuto with a grin. His arm slinks onto Akaashi’s shoulders like quicksilver. There’s one, two squeezes; he’s up to something later.

Akaashi doesn’t question it. He shifts his gaze to Hinata Shouyou; Hinata, who has come so far and yet still has so far to go. His visits to Tokyo are more and more infrequent now; studying for college entrance exams is no joke, especially for this spectacular idiot. But of course he’s still playing volleyball, he’s not the type to just hand the team over, he’ll be there on the court until the very end.

He gazes more intently at this living ray of sunshine, talking so animatedly about their warped captain and his dedicated vice captain, about the underclassmen and their games; how he and Kageyama move faster, spike stronger; they fly high and Hinata’s riding this to the end. He’s the kind of boy you can’t truly hate, even on the other side of the court; there’s a fire blazing inside him. The thought of stoking that flame makes Akaashi warm inside.

“Come to the bedroom in five minutes,” Akaashi tells them, and stands up, walks away, leaves his two open mouthed idiots to mull this over like dark wine.

* * *

 

Time has done good things to Hinata’s body, says Bokuto’s eyes and dimples. His arms wrap around Hinata even before he’s finished undressing.

“Be patient,” says Akaashi from the corner, leaning up against not one, but two walls. The extra support has proved to be helpful, but it’s no fun waiting here alone. He’s already been waiting for them, and if he waits around any longer he’ll be an old man watering flowers and feeding the birds.

Actually, in fact, patience is the last thing on his mind right now.

“Bokuto-san, I can’t-” Hinata starts to protest, wriggling under Bokuto’s hold. “I still have to-”

Something’s building up in Akaashi, and before he knows it, he’s face to face with Hinata. Centimeters separate their flushed faces, and when he gently pushes Bokuto’s arms away, and Hinata’s shirt up, neither of them make an attempt to stop him. They both know who’s in charge here.

“Hinata,” Akaashi says softly, and with a push of his fingertips, Hinata finds himself supine on the bed. He inhales deeply, and the scent of Summer Afternoon washes over him in gentle waves. The blankets are a mishmash of colors and patterns, none of which really match; but they’re soft against Hinata’s body. He closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep.

“Shouyou, Shouyou,” Bokuto is chanting, “You didn’t come all the way here just for a nap, did you?”

“It’s so cozy,” sighs Hinata, breathing deeply. Behind the smell of the detergent, there is something softer that’s burrowed deep within these fibers. It’s something musky with a hint of sweat, and it takes him back to a Tokyo night, in that twilight between yesterday and tomorrow, when his cries were muffled in the covers because Akaashi had reminded him that the walls were thinner than one would think. Even Bokuto had been more subdued, his voice reduced to a husky rasp that had sent Hinata reeling in his bones, begging for Keiji and Koutarou, over and over and over again, until none of them cared what the neighbors thought.

They had been so good to him. They really knew what he wanted, both then and now, and it’s not a goddamned nap.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Bokuto sings, and flops down on the bed beside Hinata. He shoots a pointed look at Akaashi, who has joined them, bringing with him a stern mood that reminds Hinata of the classroom. He pushes Hinata’s legs apart roughly, with callused palms that have no doubt spent countless hours in practice; the skin has yet to heal, and the textured sensation makes Hinata giggle.

“Calm down,” Akaashi reminds Hinata, watching him with lidded eyes. The boy beneath him has already become a goner, trembling in antici-

_wait for it,_

-pation;

his hair has gone soft and his body rock hard,

and it’s the perfect moment for Bokuto to intervene, being the man that he is; too anxious to get started, and characteristically bold at times like this. When Akaashi moves aside, he is only too happy to occupy that space, and leans in close to Hinata.

The boy yipes, it’s a high pitched noise one might expect from a week old kitten, blind and helpless without it’s mother to guide it. In a way, Bokuto and Akaashi are guiding Hinata now, by some form of twisted logic, not that he’s really thinking about it; Bokuto in front and Akaashi behind him is more than enough distraction, mouths sucking and biting on his lips and neck, and goddamn they’re so handsy, with fingers gripping tight and holding him down, keeping him grounded. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and sink deeper and deeper into this new form of depravity.

“Shouyou,” Bokuto moans in tune to Hinata’s fresh keening, “Relax a little,”

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi says softly.

Bokuto pouts; he sneaks a glance at his little owlet. Hinata’s face is all red now, and his chest hitches every so often; he hiccoughs, but beams when he notices his new audience.

“I’m fine!” He says, insistently, making Akaashi frown a little.

“Hinata,” Akaashi looks him in the eye, “Relax,”

Akaashi is planning something, Hinata knows it, you can tell in the way he’s easing Hinata onto his knees and how his erection is already engorged and dripping filthy. Right now, it’s all that Hinata deserves and wants, and when the head of Akaashi’s cock nudges his pink lips, he opens up and takes it in just how Akaashi likes it.

Blood rushes through Hinata’s entire body, pumping in his ears and pooling in his unattended cock, and when Bokuto pulls his arms behind him and pins them in the small of his back, he doesn’t have enough left in him to cry out.

“C’mon, Shouyou,” Bokuto gasps out, “Relax for me,”

And Hinata does, he lets his tension melt away with the noise of the city and the starless night sky. His focus is solely on these two men and what they could be, the three of them, just for tonight. Tonight is enough; tonight is all he needs, in this time where good children sleep and the world isn’t awake to witness his sin.

But when Akaashi’s gasps become more desperate, he pulls away so suddenly that Hinata doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, and then there’s semen all over his face, running down his cheeks, dripping fat droplets into his mouth that taste a bit sour but sweet too. And then when Bokuto thrusts again and again, there it is, the money shot, bursting into and out of Hinata all at once in one grand motion, just like Bokuto always does it.

Hinata falls, utterly spent, but he doesn’t hit the bed; strong arms hold him up and hold him close, sandwiching him in between the firm muscle of warm bodies. They whisper into his ear because he’s been so good, he was so good for them, the best they could ask for.

They lower him onto the bed. It’s even softer than before, and Hinata sinks right into its folds, nestling like the baby bird Bokuto and Akaashi will always see him as.

Akaashi is saying something about a bath, but the words sound so far away. Everything becomes more muted the longer Hinata leaves his eyes closed.

“Akaaaaaaashi,” whines Bokuto, “Let him sleep,” and that’s the last thing Hinata remembers before everything is dark and quiet in this apartment three hours from his house; and yet, he is completely at peace within their arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
